It was down to the wire whether our Thanksgiving with Heather, Eric and kids could be at their cabin in Atlanta, Idaho. Record breaking November snowfall left the sixty mile mountain dirt road impassable. But a quick melt has things back on track. Or so it seems.

Winter came a month early. I enjoy the blanket of sparkling white and added challenge of biking a slippery path. It sure would have been great to rake the leaves up first, though. Oh well. The fiery fog and glowing hoar frost are beautiful just the same.

We must make the most of our favorite season, walks and rides, fast and furious, before the last leaf falls. We park in Bown Crossing near Brenna’s school for an evening walk along the river before sitting to dinner and perhaps a treat.

The sharp morning light of a week ago is today muted by mist rolling off the cold water along my bicycle commute to work. Lucky for me, this common autumn scene never fails to delight and I’m glad for the chance to meander.

Something we’ve said we’d do for a while now, we load the kids up to visit Silver City then camp somewhere in the hills above. It was near freezing when I camped with my brothers recently but it seems warmer now. I hope so.

From our wet campsite along Canyon Creek below Pinyon Peak, my three brothers and I ride over Loon Creek Summit to visit the Yankee Fork Dredge then, deviating from earlier plans, we take lunch in Stanley before finding our way to camp high in Washington Basin.

Along Deadwood Reservoir, through Bear Valley to Pinyon Peak, our second day of riding treats us to vistas even more vast. We are held up by mechanical troubles but not deterred. Rocks in our path are an integral and expected part of the experience.

The first day of our seventh annual Abbott Brother Ride, this time, for the first time, in South Central Idaho. We stage at my house then head over the Boise Ridge, from desert to forest, on our way to high mountains.

Michael and I ride from Boise through Prairie and across the mountains to Pine and Featherville before turning north to camp around a high mountain lake. We cover highway, gravel, dirt roads, ATV and singletrack, a real dual sport adventure.

She has been asking about it almost daily for weeks and finally we’re making it happen, a camp out for just Brenna and me. I liked what I saw last week motorcycling around Little Jacks Creek so that’s where we are headed with hot dogs, marshmallows and our best hiking flip-flops.

Per my usual process for a solo ride, I pan around Google Earth looking to see things I haven’t seen, consult with the Idaho Trails site and finally lay out a route in the GPS software. It works great thirty percent of the time.

After running through some options to break the television-watching rain routine, we settle on the forty-five minute drive to Jump Creek Falls, what some call a “locals’” attraction because of unclear, zig-zag access through private pastures and occasional use by teen revelers.